Lizzie Bordon
by CrocodileTears98
Summary: What's in a name? The power to transform someone into a murderer? This girl has to stand in front of a jury and convince them of her innocence. Why? Supposedly; Lizzie Borden took an axe  Gave her mother fifty whacks,  When she saw what she had done,  She gave her father fifty-one.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N; Just wanted to do a one-shot about bullying awareness and this came to mind.**

The team was in Rhode Island working on a case. They had reason to believe the unsub was a teenager, so they were in the public high school, observing lunch hour.

"If you went to this school, where would you sit?" JJ said sounding bored.

"Easy." Morgan replied. "Over there." He pointed to a table full of jocks, wearing letterman jackets.

"I'm them." Prentiss blushed as she pointed to a table full of angry-looking Goths.

"I guess I'd be them." Hotch shrugged, pointing to the preppy-boy table.

"That's me." JJ nodded towards some girls, obviously obsessed with soccer from the black and white ball sitting on the table.

"I'd probably be sitting with Hotch." Rossi said.

"Who are you, Reid?" Prentiss turned to the resident genius.

"Her." He said quietly, pointing.

The girl looked young for high school. Her blond hair flowed unchallenged down her back. She was not at a table; she was sitting on the floor, back against the wall. She did not dare look around the lunchroom. Some girls from a table the team had not paid attention to let out a loud burst o giggles. It became obvious who they were. They were caked in makeup and wearing all pink or light blue. One of them, wearing five-inch heels, wobbled over to the lone girl a smirk on her face. She stopped in front of her and dumped spaghetti all over the poor girl.

"I heard you like spaghetti, _Lizzie_," She spat. "Bon appetite!" She cackled as she walked away again.

Lizzie slowly pulled the lump of pasta off her head, and set it on her own tray. She did not cry, or retaliate. She just sat there.

"I'm gonna go talk to her." Reid stood up and cleared the cafeteria.

"Who are you?" Lizzie said warily as he sat across from her.

"I'm Dr. Reid with the FBI." He showed her his badge. "I heard that girl say your name was Lizzie?"

"Yeah. She is Samantha. Her friends and basically the whole school like to poke fun at me because I skipped a couple of grades."

"I did too. Graduated high school at twelve."

"Cool!"

"What do they say about you? I mostly got beat up."

"They lock me in my locker, typical stuff. But they get a kick out of my name. Lizzie Bordon."

"Oh." Reid paused. "The rhyme." He saw his team waving him back. "I gotta go. Here's my card if you wanna talk." He handed her a small piece of paper and went to join his team.

**Lizzie Bordon took an axe.**

**Gave her mother 50 whacks.**

**When she saw what she had done,**

**She gave her father 51.**


	2. Lizzie's life

**A/N; So sorry I haven't updated sooner! School is over so I can guarantee that I will update more soon since I am normally bored to tears during summer. Though I do have serious writer's block on 'Can Anyone Hear My Screams?'. Thank you to **_**lolyncut **_**for giving me the idea of more than a oneshot on this. I honestly didn't know how to put complete on my stories until like a month ago.**

"Oh, LIZZIE!" Stephanie shrieked with glee.

Lizzie ran ahead of the heavily-makeuped girl. She was relieved that she had the sense to wear well-worn converse instead of the torture devices strapped to Stephanie's feet. But she forgot that Stephanie had the football team on her side. Two muscled meatheads caught up to Lizzie and pinned her arms to her sides.

"Hey!" She shouted indignantly and began trying to kick them. They guffawed stupidly as they began dragging her back to the school. They all just laughed as she struggled, and two more football players grabbed her feet so she lay flat in the air. She swore at them, promising to do some pretty nasty things to their innards after ripping their heads off.

That just made them laugh harder.

Lizzie ended up locked in the supply closet.

"Use this time out to learn some manners!" A random boy managed to say through his giggles.

"How 'bout I just kick you in the soft spot and make you sing soprano for a week?" Lizzie screamed back.

After their laughter trailed off, something struck Lizzie; it was Friday. That meant if she didn't get out of here, she would be locked in all weekend! She desperately searched for something to break off the lock with and got her hand on a rusty wrench. She banged at the door with the wrench, praying it would give. After what felt like hours, the lock snapped, and she dropped the tool and darted out the door and out of the building. She ran home hoping her parents weren't too worried, she didn't know how long she had been trapped. As she arrived on her doorstep, she paused to breathe. Then she pushed open the door.

Her bedroom was on the first floor of the house, tucked in a corner behind the kitchen. She liked waking up to the smell of her dad making breakfast, usually pancakes with his secret ingredient; cinnamon. That was enough to help her put up with the lack of room. She still had a twin-sized bed at 14, just to give her enough space for a trunk of clothes and small desk.

She burst into her room, dumping her backpack on the bed.

"Mom, Dad, I'm home!" she walked through the kitchen and called up the stairs.

No answer.

"Mom? Dad?" she began to climb up the stairs, skipping a step that creaked in case they were napping. They worked double, and sometimes triple shifts at the textile factory down the street because they could barely pay their mortgages. Lizzie wore thrift shop clothes and asked for less and less each birthday and Christmas, as to not upset them. They hardly yelled, but she could see it in their eyes each time she asked for a favor. Se could tell she grayed their hair, and wore them out. She always felt guilty she was not more self-sufficient. That might mean she could get to see them more, that they wouldn't spend their free time sleeping or working.

At the top of the stairs, she saw it.

Lizzie was afraid of a lot of things. Spiders, the dark, clowns, and of course, the kids at school. Not blood. Never blood. Why fear something that is extremely useful? She always said. But at the moment, she was terrified of it. Well, not just blood. _The _blood. You know, the pool of blood in the hallway when she couldn't find her parents. She forgot all caution in her panic and sprinted into her parent's room.

No. No. No. **NO!**


	3. Misplaced Accusations

**A/N; Surprise! I usually never update this fast but I thought, what the heck! I already had this chapter written in my head and the only reason I didn't add it to the last chapter was because I thought that was pretty suspenseful.**

Lizzie was cold. She had goose bumps on her arms and she wished for a jacket as she rubbed them with her hands. The interrogation room was blank, mostly white and off-white. She already hated it in there. Not because of the chill, or the fact she knew she was being watched through the one-way glass. It was the reason she was there that she hated.

Her parents. Dead.

She knew she had seen them, but she could not remember what she saw. She actually had read of that, people not remembering tragic things or even going mute because of it. She was glad she was not mute though.

Because she needed to defend herself.

The irritating thickset cop waddled into the room. "Alright little one," he sat down across from her and pushed a pad and pen towards her. "Now I need you to write down in neat little letters all about how you walked home from school and took an axe to your mommy and daddy, mkay?"

She glared across the table at him. Without a word, she leaned forward, grabbed the pen and began to scribble out barely legible words on the paper.

When she finished, he smiled in victory, but his face twisted into a frown when he actually read it.

"I DIDN'T DO IT." was scrawled in slanted letters across the entire page.

"Lisabeth," he began "can I call you Lizzie?" she shook her head 'no'. "Lizzie, we have a large amount of physical evidence pointing to you killing your parents. Your fingerprints on the murder weapon, they did not fight back which means they knew their killer, and you do not even have an alibi! Now, just confess, so we can all go home."

"Fingerprints are easy to plant, my parents knew a lot of people, and I do have an alibi. The lock on the supply closet has been snapped of because I was LOCKED IN IT!" She snarled. "I've got nothing to confess you egotistical little narcissist! So get you oversized rear in gear and find the little psycho who killed my mom and dad!" Her voice rose into a scream.

"I have found the killer." His eyes narrowed. "She is sitting right in front of me!" he yelled back. His head whipped around when he heard three taps on the glass. He stood and stormed out of the room.

Lizzie needed help. Real bad. Then an idea struck her. She stood and walked to the glass. If she concentrated, she could see the shadows of the cops on the other side of the glass. She widened her eyes to her 'creep out' face that she normally saved for Halloween. She began following the shadows' movements for a moment then focused her eyes on where on of their heads were.

"I would like my phone call, please.' She said politely, still staring at the head.

As she was led out of the room, she took the small piece of paper out of her pocket. She was glad she kept it, even though the edges were frayed with age. She picked up the old wall phone and dialed the number. It rang twice then she heard the beep that meant her call was answered.

"Hello this is Dr. Spencer Reid from the FBI Behavioral analysis unit in Quantico. With whom am I speaking?"

"Dr. Reid," she gasped with relief. "It's Lizzie Borden. I need your help."

**A/N; I wanted to let you guys in on this cool app I discovered called Pocket Fiction. You hook it up to your fanfic account and all your favorite stories and the ones on alert are downloaded. Its like a mini library that you don't need internet connection for. I absolutely love it and I hope you guys will check it out because it is free!**


End file.
